


hibernation day

by deskclutter



Category: Princess Tutu
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-27 20:29:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/983264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deskclutter/pseuds/deskclutter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some birds winter in the south, but not Ahiru.</p><p>Written for Fakiru Week 2013: cloth</p>
            </blockquote>





	hibernation day

It had begun to snow in the morning, when the clouds had hung low and grey in the sky. Fat flakes of snow that sparkled under light drifted and danced around the icicles that from the roof like jagged teeth.  
  
Ahiru, fortunately, was already prepared for it.  
  
(The swallows had been the first to leave when the cold set in, withering the leaves and stripping all that was green from the ground. "Come away with us," they had said to her. But she had stayed to keep company with the nightingales.)  
  
From the airing cupboard she pulled out an eiderdown, cream and blue, that was so wide that it sometimes seemed (to her) to be without end; a long tartan fleece that looked almost sleek after the swamp of the duvet; a simple blanket that she had pilfered from the school when she had carried home her own lamp, which shone tirelessly now all through the night when Fakir fell asleep at his writing table.  
  
She was trying to pull the tartan last over Fakir's shoulders when he woke up.  
  
"What," he said, rubbing at his eyes, "are you doing."  
  
(When the trees were bare, the nightingales said, "We are leaving to see our relatives so that the cold does not splinter our voices when we sing. Come with us." But she stayed to keep company with the ducks.)  
  
"I," quacked Ahiru, "am making sure that you do not freeze your fingers to the bone."  
  
"If you'll stop smothering me, I'll build up the fire," said Fakir, though anyone could see it was already crackling in the grate. With another yawn, he pushed the eiderdown off his shoulders, which, as she had still been perched on it to drag the third blanket over him, sent Ahiru toppling over with many shouts of recrimination.  
  
(Now the ducks were loth to leave, but when frost skated over windowpanes and full winter snapped in the air, they said, "Come away with us. The winter is harsh on the bones of ducks and all your friends have flown south but for the robin redbreast and he is a foolish fellow."  
  
But she said, "I am promised to stay by the side of another. He is even now bent over a desk covered in paper, and he will be writing all over it even in the heart of winter. Who will see that his fingers do not ice over and break off, if I am not here to remind him to wear his gloves and drink his tea and wear warm coats? Go without me, friends, and I will be here waiting for your return in the spring."  
  
So the ducks, seeing that there was nothing to be said to convince her, took their leave with an admonishment to the robin redbreast that he must see to her care and health. And Ahiru stayed to keep company with Fakir.)  
  
After stoking up the fire a little more with the poker, Fakir went to the window and rubbed the glass so it was clear. "Look," he said, beckoning Ahiru to see for herself. She hopped up, peering out curiously.  
  
The storm had passed, and a vast spread of snow, surely thicker than the blue and cream eiderdown, blanketed the world in clean swathes, pristine and untrodden upon by anyone's paws or feet or claws. It seemed to Ahiru that all the world was wrapped and muffled -- Fakir's movements not so crisp as usual, their own disagreement unusually more softened. Even the snapping in the fire did not seem so loud as it could have been, though there was no snow inside the house.  
  
"I think," said Fakir, in a considering tone of voice. "I think today should be a holiday. None of my editors are going to be able to find me through this snow anyway."  
  
"!!" said Ahiru, as he shuffled further into the room to pick up the thick down blanket as a cushion against the floor, and then he draped the fleece over himself to curl up in front of the fire.  
  
"Well?" he said. "Will you join me?" And he lifted up a corner of the blanket, only just big enough for a duck to fit, for it was cold.  
  
Ahiru picked herself up off the ledge and went to him.  
  
They fell asleep that way, curled up against one another.  
  
("Yes, yes, I did look in on her once or twice," said the robin when the ducks returned. "She didn't look too badly off. Not to my eye, at any rate.")

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure bird migration works quite like this but it _does_ work something like this in books I read as a kid, sooooooooo.
> 
> (partially based off The Happy Prince.)


End file.
